The plate is streaked in orange and green sauces; citrusy, herby swooshes that add brightness and depth to the three perfect scallops along the platter’s edge. Lamb kabobs with good olives and feta make up another dish. Cocktails are muddled with fresh blueberries, cucumbers and real mint.

What does any of this have to do with Harvey Firestone?

I have no idea.

At 2 months old, The Firestone is the latest from the folks behind Ford’s Garage and Los Cabos Cantina. These guys are conquering downtown Fort Myers one restaurant at a time. And The Firestone is their crown jewel.

The four-story Bay Street complex features the Sky Bar, the Martini Bar and two levels of the restaurant where behemoth tractor tires serve as chandeliers, while smaller tires dangle from a conveyor belt that winds them around the brick-lined dining room like rubber rounds on a ski lift.

If Disney World had a Harvey Firestone ride, this is what the wait line would look like, right down to the giant, tire-framed screen that broadcasts grainy reels of sputtering stock cars every few minutes.

Executive chef Marbin Avilez, formerly of Fort Myers Beach’s Bayfront Bistro, has a mish-mash menu on his hands; one where Maryland crab cakes compete with Tuscan flatbreads, sesame-crusted ahi tuna and paella in saffron-infused Jasmine rice. It’s the kind of menu where everyone had a say, and no one had the heart to say “no.”

Food here is at its best with dishes that hark back to Avilez’s Bayfront days.

His butterfish melts into meaty flakes at the nudge of your fork, just as it did on the Beach. Fat commas of Gulf shrimp are lavished in butter and garlic to tender effect. More shrimp pop up in a cup of gumbo, the brooding, gravy-rich broth sparked by slices of spicy andouille.

A seemingly simple salad of heirloom tomatoes, avocado and mozzarella impresses not with its technique, but with the perfection of its ingredients. Lamb tenderloin is served in medium-rare strips in a luscious, peach-veal jus.

There are able hands in the kitchen, to be sure, which makes you wonder why, on another night, that same tomato-avocado salad is choked with salt. Or an order of chicken spring rolls is really just one roll cut into thirds. And why, during a lunch stop, the fried-green-tomato BLT is served with two meager strips of bacon.

These are small mistakes for a restaurant of this size. Portions of Avilez’s menu are served all the way up to the Sky Bar; one kitchen churning out four floors of eclectic food.

What The Firestone needs is focus. It has it in the thematic décor of its dining room; once it finds it everywhere else downtown Fort Myers will be even better off.

Jean Le Boeuf is the nom de plume of a local food lover who dines at The News-Press’ expense. Contact jleboeuf@news-press.com; facebook.com/JeanLeBoeufSWFL or @jeanleboeuf (Twitter).